Long Drive Back (To Vegas Skies)
by thecommandersgirl
Summary: The mixture of remote cabins in the middle of the woods and a group of complete strangers can be a potent combination, especially when one of those strangers has eyes brighter than any Clarke has ever seen.


Clarke's pretty sure she's been driving in circles for at least the last hour when her phone starts ringing in the glove compartment. The monotonous beeping grates on her nerves, which are already raw from the frustration of having to try and single-handedly navigate her way through the dense woodland tracks using nothing but an old map, a faulty and battery-depleted SatNav and a mobile phone with no mobile internet left (Clarke mentally curses her decision not to choose a contract with unlimited 4G). She yanks open the glove compartment to reveal her mobile, vibrating and flashing Raven's name across its screen, and sighs with annoyance. She can already see it coming; her best friend will tell her that she's been at the cabins for ages, no doubt, and then proceed to give her an earful about getting lost en route.

Clarke had told Raven she wouldn't be able to find the place when Raven had bustled into her flat a few months earlier and laid various maps on her dining room table, animatedly talking about a group holiday and pointing at various roads and camp sites and God knows what else whilst Clarke had just stood there, blankly staring at the ocean of green that Raven had then begun gesturing particularly energetically to. Clarke had pointed out that there'd be no signposts out in the middle of nowhere and that the chances of a search party being needed to come and rescue her were dangerously near one hundred percent, but Raven had hushed her fretting with talk of hiking and fishing and adventure.

And now, just as promised, Clarke is completely lost on a road that's probably going in completely the wrong direction with a headache beginning to stir behind her eyes, only encouraged by the burning sun that's still stubbornly high in the sky despite it being almost six o'clock in the evening. It's difficult to see, from Clarke's point of view, how the situation can get any worse.

By the end of the phone conversation, it's gotten worse.

* * *

By seven thirty, Clarke's managed to find her way to the cabins but the achievement elicits little relief. The sun starting its descent now, causing the three small wooden buildings clustered nearby to cast long shadows across the clearing and a warm orange light to bathe the tips of the trees, as if they're burning. A single car sits in the shadow of each cabin and a pyramid of sticks is built up in the centre of the clearing – the beginnings of a bonfire, perhaps? – with thick logs placed haphazardly around it to make what Clarke can only assume is a seating area.

It would all look genuinely exciting to Clarke had her best friend not left her deserted last minute, citing an "unforeseen set of circumstances" for her sudden withdrawal from the trip before promptly hanging up with little more than a "bye" and "have fun".

Clarke parks up beside the closest cabin and checks her phone, holding on to a fading hope that it holds a message from Raven, but the dreaded "no signal" symbol sits in the corner of her screen instead, which prompts an exasperated sigh. Quite how she is going to spend two weeks amongst a group of total strangers who just happen to know her best friend, Clarke doesn't know, but the small voice in the back of her head tells her that she's come too far into this damn wood to turn back and go home now. Slightly resenting the stubbornness she could only have inherited from her mother, Clarke turns her phone off completely, puts it back in the glove compartment and steps out of the car.

The onset of evening has long passed but the air is still warm and laced with the earthy scents of the woods. It's been a while since Clarke's been so far from regular civilisation, and hearing the crunch of the pine needles beneath her feet as she walks around to the back of her car makes her nostalgic for all of the childhood camping trips her mom had taken her on whilst her dad had been working away. Living in the city has never been Clarke's thing, not really, but it's a necessity that's been difficult to avoid, what with her parents holding such prominent positions at their respective work places. Being out in the wilderness of the forests feels strangely like returning home.

It isn't until Clarke has all of her various rucksacks and holdalls slung across her shoulders and hanging from her arms that she realises she has no idea where she's actually going to unpack them. With all three cabins sporting a car beside them, it dawns on Clarke that she may have arrived too late to claim a cabin to herself.

That means a roommate.

Mentally cursing her best friend for leaving her in such a situation, and hoping that none of Raven's friends turned out to be serial killers, Clarke drops all of her bags back into the rear of her car and, with no better plan of action, decides to try knocking the door of the nearest cabin.

Waiting for an answer, there's silence from within the cabin apart from the faint murmur of music from one of the rooms at the back, although it's but a whisper compared to the sound of the evening wind conversing with the trees of the forest. With the sun now teetering on the edge of the tree-line, the dropping temperature makes itself known to Clarke as goose-bumps push up from the skin on her arms.

Clarke knocks again, impatient.

Still no response.

Beginning to feel like the inhabitant of the cabin is either elsewhere or simply ignoring her, Clarke starts to make her way back down the steps of the cabin, feeling slightly dejected and considering sneaking away before anyone noticed she's arrived. The darkness that's now rapidly engulfing the clearing doesn't welcome her the way the warm embers of the sunset did and in the growing gloom, the cabins look more intimidating than inviting.

It isn't until Clarke is half way back to her car, her jumper pulled tightly against her arms and her hands buried in the woollen fabric, that the door of the first cabin opens, the obviously rusty hinges groaning from the movement, and a girl steps out of the doorway, her hair wrapped in a towel and her clothes obviously thrown on in a rush.

Without thinking, Clarke lifts her arm into a wave in an automatic attempt to get the girl's attention and then mentally curses herself for doing so as the option of leaving without detection quickly fades. The girl doesn't wave back, but simply calls out to Clarke from the doorway, her hand still firmly on the door handle.

"Can I help you?"

The response is a hasty nod from Clarke, before she begins a quick jog back to the cabin steps, aware of the girl's eyes on her as she climbs them; "Hi, yeah, I'm Clarke; I'm a friend of Raven's…"

The sentence dissolves into silence as Clarke realises that interrupting someone's shower isn't the best precursor to asking to share a cabin with them.

"Right. We're all Raven's friends, aren't we," the girl replies, matter-of-factly. She doesn't break eye contact with Clarke once, which would be intimidating with any other person, but Clarke finds a strange feeling of ease in meeting the eyes of this stranger; the rings of bright green that border her pupils demand attention and Clarke gives it willingly.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, but the thing is, I don't actually know anyone here - Raven said she'd invited a bunch of people she knew but I don't actually know any of them. I don't even know people's names," Clarke laughs. The stranger's lips quirk upwards briefly.

"My plan was to stick with her and have her introduce me, but she's dropped out, so now I'm a bit stuck as to who you guys are and where I'm meant to be going," Clarke rambles, trying to make up for the lack of words from her stranger, who nods her head gently while Clarke speaks, "Sorry for interrupting your shower, by the way," she tags on the end, gesturing towards the towel on the girl's head, "I would have tried another cabin first if I'd have known." The girl in the doorway blushes slightly, her eyes softening and the corners of her mouth lifting to a gentle smile, which Clarke takes as a small sign of success.

"I think it's a good thing you checked here first, actually," the girl replies, choosing to not draw any more attention to her interrupted shower, "I don't know anyone else here either, but they all know each other. There's a couple in the second cabin round, and then the brother of the girl has got the third cabin to himself, I think, unless someone else's arrived while I wasn't looking. My name's Lexa, by the way," Lexa reaches out a hand, which Clarke takes firmly. As she does, she notices the green nail varnish on Lexa's slim fingers and how it's almost the exact same shade of green as her eyes, which still manage to shine brightly, even in the dim evening light. Silence grips the pair as they stand, neither one pulling away their hand from the other. Clarke finds there's a strange comfort in standing with her hand intertwined with this girl's, like greeting an old friend; the tug of fondness in the middle of her chest feels misplaced and yet incredibly welcome. It's Lexa who eventually breaks the moment, lightly sliding her hand from Clarke's with a simper, "To be honest, I was thinking of leaving-"

"Don't leave," Clarke interrupts, almost involuntarily, her voice infused with a slight desperation that pulls her to her senses, "I mean, don't leave until you've given this a chance, yeah? We can find something fun to do together in this place. Just please don't leave; I'm not really sure I want to stay if you're not going to stay too."

Lexa, standing in the doorway, seems taken aback by Clarke's admission, her eyes notably widening and her mouth forming a small "o" as blood rushes to colour her cheeks, but her lips then start to slowly form a small smirk that's more affectionate than smug. Clarke suddenly wants to rip her words from the air and stuff them back into her throat where they belong, but now they're out and winding their way into the night air. She's unable to avoid what her loose tongue has betrayed to Lexa's ears, and what can only have been a few short moments seem to stretch on for hours in Clarke's mind, until Lexa dips her head with a small chuckle.

"What I was going to say was that I was thinking of leaving until you arrived," Lexa replies, eyes now alight with amusement as she watches Clarke's cheeks flush an even darker shade of pink, "but I think you might just have changed my mind, Clarke."

Lexa doesn't laugh as Clarke squirms with embarrassment at her own hastiness, although her eyes dance with a silent kind of laughter that ignites a fire in the pit of Clarke's stomach that burns and threatens to swallow her whole. Within the space of mere minutes, she has managed to completely embarrass herself, and yet, standing in front of a hastily-dressed Lexa, there's something electric about the seeds of friendship that have been sown out on the cabin's decking. "Clarke, this cabin has a spare bed," Lexa says, gesturing into the cabin, "If you would like it, that is."

With a quick nod and a broad smile, Clarke accepts the offer whilst mentally replaying the way Lexa's lips had wrapped around her name and trying not to imagine the way it would feel to have Lexa's tongue act out those same syllables against her own.


End file.
